Chapter Six
♥
Alexandra sat with the president and his wife in President’s Dining Room in the White House. Gabe, Conor, and Jonathon waited elsewhere in the Executive Residence. They’d been left in the care of two Secret Service agents, and god only knew how that was going. She separated her thoughts from them. Her main focus was appearing relaxed, confident, and intelligent as she was served a selection of beautifully decorated petit fours and a deep, rich coffee. She shared niceties with the First Lady.
The president slid three sets of documents across the tabletop. “It was harder scrubbing your three bodyguards’ pasts than I initially thought, but they will each pass as squeaky-clean now. Those will allow them entry into any country you might be called to for a consult and will allow them to remain armed at all times.”
Alexandra perused the passports and Secret Service credentials, including badges. “Thank you. I feel much more at ease with them at my back. You’re aware there have been multiple attempts on my life.”
“I am aware, which is why I must insist you provide your agents with all the details for the activities you have planned in the future. They were severely unprepared for the shindig you attended yesterday. I was told they had no time to cordon off the subdivision, and you arranged for additional security without prior authorization.”
Alexandra saw his wife lightly touch his hand. The First Lady asked, “It was a family gathering?”
“Yes, my parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary.”
The First Lady placed her hand over her heart. “I do so love to hear of marriages that have survived the test of time.”
“Yes, dear.” The president lifted his hand off the table. “But the truth is I need her alive, so no more outings without appropriate planning.”
“Yes, sir, and as such I will be in Ireland with my fiancé’s family for the month of November. My agents have been apprised and aside from public health catastrophes of earth shattering importance, I will be conducting all business via email and video conference.”
“Let us hope for no tragedies, my dear,” the First Lady patted her hand.
“I assume you can guess how unhappy I am with this plan?” the president asked, shaking his head. “I want you safe, however as I already stressed, I want you seen. Some international exposure may benefit the cause. You will work with my staff as to scheduling political events while you are in the United Kingdom.”
“Events?” Alexandra clasped her hands together.
“As of noon tomorrow you will be a representative of the United States. As such, visits to foreign countries need to be sanctioned by all involved.”
“I want all public appearances publicized, especially your comings and goings from the White House. As such, we will meet weekly for updates. We will pencil in Thursday evening at nine p.m. If I cannot make the meeting, my personal secretary will notify you as early as possible.”
“A video chat or phone call―”
“Can be intercepted. No one is privy to what is said in my private quarters.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Concerns have been expressed about your abilities, considering your numerous distractions, and now there are rumors that you are engaged to marry? And you’ve adopted a child?”
“Yes, I’m engaged to Patrick Gowan, and I did adopt my goddaughter.”
“A wedding date has been set?”
“Not yet. He only just proposed.”
“I’d advise sooner rather than later, perhaps even a civil ceremony, but I have a feeling that will not be agreeable to you.”
“We will have a big Catholic wedding and ample hoopla.”
“I anticipated as much,” the president commented, his voice heavy with disapproval.
“Oh, lovely,” his wife said with a wink. “Every bride deserves the big moment.”
Alexandra wondered if this was a thinly veiled version of good cop, bad cop.
The president opened a day planner. “You’ll be in Washington, DC, from December twenty-seventh to the thirty-first for a company fund-raiser, I believe?”
“Yes,” she said cautiously, not sure why that mattered.
“I’ve reserved St. Patrick’s for January first.” He passed her a folder. “My staff will handle all the details, invitations, seating charts for the reception, media release, and of course photography, catering, and full protection detail, so leave your AODH security at home. All you need to do is e-mail your guest list to the highlighted address inside the folder as soon as possible and pick out your dress. My wife drew the line there, and while I believe you’ll be wasting valuable time shopping for a dress and veil, she seems to think you will want to.”
Alexandra gaped, slightly overwhelmed. “It’s true we haven’t set a date, but my wedding is going to be held at St. Xavier’s. Father McGahee is officiating.”
“Yes, yes, my people have been in contact with his people, and accommodations will be provided for him here. Of course he won’t do the officiating as a guest priest, but he’ll give a blessing or something.” He waved his hand as if she shouldn’t be distressed at all by that.
Deep breath, shoulders back, chin up. No fucking smile. “I’m not sure why you believed it is appropriate―”
“Let me stop you there. Your job is to save the world. Your government’s job is to protect you, and your government can protect you better here. This is not open for discussion.”
“I’m overwhelmed by your generosity.” Alexandra smiled very wide. “Thank you, sir. It will be an honor to have my wedding at St. Patrick’s. I’ve heard it’s very lovely. Is it too much to ask where my reception will be held?”
“The Ronald Reagan Building and International Trade Center.” The First Lady winked. “Very hard to schedule, but who would dare say no to the president’s personal adviser? I saw to the details myself. They are awaiting your color selections and if there is to be a theme?”
“Classic simplicity, that’s always my personal theme,” Alexandra replied. “I’m sure all the pertinent information is in this packet?”
“Of course, and my dear, you are going to be a stunning bride.”
Alexandra met the president’s gaze. “Mr. President, if my private life is proving too difficult for the administration to find acceptable, I won’t have my feelings hurt if you choose a different advisor.”
The president answered sternly, “No, there’s too much at risk, and well you know it. Fortunately, America isn’t the same country it was a decade ago; my predecessor saw to that. The world is slowly becoming more open-minded, and a few words from me, publicly acknowledging my faith in your competence―”
“Let me stop you right there, Mr. President. My competence is not hindered because of my sex life. You may have seen my recent rant on social media.”
“You gained many enemies with that speech,” the First Lady commented. “But I believe you gained a greater number of supporters. I watched it. I admit I had no idea who you were before that night, and the impression I was left with of you was positive. You are a very strong woman, which can assist or hinder you, as I’m sure you’re discovering.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I suggest you make America, especially the women, love you and quickly. Use the publicity to your advantage, become the topic of conversation. I believe you have experience in that area, although I would caution against further risqué public displays.”
“I agree, ma’am, and no one was more distressed than I was when I discovered an intimate moment from my private life had been made public.”
“I can only imagine your humiliation. At least you’ve been well prepared for the spotlight you are about to enter. Your life becomes even more public now.” The First Lady stood. “I’ll leave you two so my husband can fill you in on the nitty-gritty.”
The president waited until his wife exited. “Let’s get down to the serious business at hand.”
♥ ♥ ♥
Alexandra found Gabe, Conor, and Jonathon exactly where she’d been forced to leave them―outside the secure zone. She took Gabe’s hand without a word and led the three from the White House to their waiting SUV. The Secret Service agent behind the wheel was the same one who’d brought them. “Where to, Dr. Van Zant?”
“The Fairmont.”
The driver drove, and Alexandra turned to face Gabe. “Slight change of plans.”
“We’re spending the night?”
“Yes.” She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she hitched her chin toward the agents in the front seat. “I have a noon press conference with all the major news networks. Once we’re settled and have room service delivered, I will try to explain. Everything. Right now I’m barely processing. I’m mentally and physically exhausted.”
He squeezed her hand, and she was glad he understood their need for discretion.
“Do we all have to stay, or can I go back to Cincy tonight?” Jonathon asked suddenly.
Conor and Gabe both glared at him. Gabe confronted him. “Would you like to be dropped at the curb, and you can hitch a ride from there?”
“I’ll arrange for the jet to return him tonight,” Alexandra answered, meeting Jonathon’s surprised gaze. “I don’t want anyone watching my back who isn’t there because they want to be. It appears he has made his decision, and it appears he isn’t up to the commitment required for this relationship to work.”
She turned to Gabe and looked from him to Conor. “Are the two of you comfortable continuing on as a ménage à trois?”
“Of course,” they both replied.
“Understanding the three of us will be completely monogamous to each other as long as the relationship continues?”
“Yes,” Conor answered.
“My loyalty is to you. There should be no doubt,” Gabe answered.
Alexandra was watching Jonathon’s reaction from the corner of her eye, so she wasn’t surprised when he demanded, “Why are you being such a bitch?”
She was not prepared for Gabe to punch him in the face. “No one talks to Alexandra with anything other than the respect she deserves. Agent Jack, will you pull the vehicle to the curb?”
Jonathon turned away, looking out the window.
The SUV pulled to the side of the road and stopped. The second agent stepped from the front seat and opened the door for Jonathon to get out.
Jonathon met Alexandra’s gaze. “This isn’t what I wanted.”
“Explain this.”
He pointed to all of them. “This fight. I’m not asking to be released from the ménage. I’m just not comfortable staying in Washington, DC, tonight. I’d be more comfortable in Cincinnati. All I was asking for was some space.”
She looked at Jonathon with impatience. She was weary, hungry, and overwhelmed, and in no mood for drama. “It has been my experience, as you well know, that asking for space rarely ends well in the context of this ménage. At least, my experience turned out to be bloody awful—one of my dearest friends was murdered, and I could have been kidnapped. So, if you need space, leave the vehicle as Gabe has suggested. If, instead, you just need a break from the intimacy, the better option would be to ask for a private sleeping space and allow me to consider your request.”
He swallowed and nodded. “May I have that option and remain in the vehicle?”
“You may stay in the vehicle. Consider the wording of your request carefully before you ask for space once we are settled into the room and after we have eaten.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You may close the door, Agent. Thank you.”
They rode in silence to the Fairmont. The agent opened the door, and Gabe left the vehicle first, taking Alexandra’s hand to help her out. She and Gabe entered the Fairmont, Jonathon and Conor following.
Alexandra went to the front desk. “Dr. Van Zant checking in to the Lexus Hybrid Suite.”
“Dr. Van Zant, welcome to the Fairmont. Do you need assistance with your bags?”
“There are no bags, thank you.”
“I will have Filipe escort you and your guests to the suite.” He gestured to an employee standing beside him. “Is there anything I can do to make certain your stay is most enjoyable?”
“Quite a bit, thank you.” Alexandra smiled and handed him a slip of paper. “I have a list.”
He read the list and nodded. “I’ll have the items delivered immediately.”
“Thank you.”
♥ ♥ ♥
Gabe watched Jonathon on the ride up, and the scrutiny made Jonathon stiff. His eye was already showing signs of a nice shiner. As they departed the elevator, he warned, “Tread lightly, Mr. O’Donnell.”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir. Sometimes I forget my place.”
Gabe saw Alexandra glance over her shoulder and frown at the exchange, but Conor wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed her forward, increasing the space between them. She whispered, “What the fuck?”
“Relax. Everything is under control,” Conor whispered.
One of the Secret Service agents slid the room key, entered, and searched the suite, then returned, announcing, “All clear.”
“Thank you.” Conor led Alexandra into the spacious suite and commented on the room’s distinctly monochrome interior design. The walls were a medium gray, and all the furnishings were varying shades of dark gray and black. “Nice. Do you ever get tired of gray and black?”
Alexandra snorted. “Not really. Gray and black help me remain calm and not kill the people who irritate me.”
Conor laughed nervously, and Gabe suspected Conor hadn’t anticipated her directness. “Remind me to never dress too brightly.”
She winked. “I might make an exception for you.”
They walked through the living area, divided into sitting, dining, and an office space. Alexandra chose the large bedroom on the left, and although the main bedcover was white, everything else, including the blanket at the foot of the bed, was shades of gray and black. She stepped out of her stiletto pumps, lay down on the bed, and curled into herself.
Gabe asked, “Are you okay?”
“Let’s see. I was just given direct orders by the fucking president of the United States, my guts feel like they may fall out of my body at any moment, I’m starving, and Jonathon is moodier than I am on a bad day.” She shook her head. “Figure out what the fuck his problem is tonight, because I can’t take much more. Last night he asked me to dance with him; tonight he wants to leave the ménage? Jesus.”
“I know you’re frustrated, but I assure you, he doesn’t want to leave the ménage.”
“Frustrated is not the word I’d use.” She closed her eyes. “I’m already more emotionally invested in him than I should have ever allowed myself to become, and he is ripping my heart out.”
Having her back to the door, she hadn’t seen Jonathon standing in the doorway, hearing every word, but Gabe knew and gave the man a look of disappointment. Jonathon turned and walked away.
In the time he’d looked at Jonathon, Alexandra had fallen asleep. He exhaled and met Conor’s gaze. “Stay with her? I don’t want her to wake up alone.”
Conor removed his suit coat, weapons harness, and shoes. “I’ll be here for her.”
Gabe watched him stretch out on the bed beside her and nodded approvingly before turning away to find Jonathon. He found him in the other bedroom’s attached bathroom. “Bedroom. Now. Kneel.”
Gabe followed and faced him as Jonathon knelt deeply before him. He pressed his foot into the center of Jonathon’s back. “What in the fuck were you thinking?”
“When, Sir?”
Gabe added weight to his foot, pushing Jonathon deeper. “In the SUV, wanting to go back to Cincinnati?”
“I’m sorry, Sir. I just don’t want to do this.”
“This?”
“Pretending I can have a happily ever after, a family of my own.”
“Congratulations. At the rate you’re going, you may get the misery and isolation you seek. How many times will you be offered the life we are all offering you?”
Jonathon shook his head. “She has you so fooled, Sir.”
Gabe pulled his boot back and jerked Jonathon up by his hair. He slapped him. “I have known Alexandra most of my life, and I’ve been in love with her since the moment our eyes first met. I’m thinking she isn’t the one who has had me fooled. I thought better of you, and I cannot even express my disappointment.”
Gabe dropped his hair, and Jonathon fell forward, sobbing. “Please don’t leave me, Sir.”
He turned around before opening the bedroom door and looked at Jonathon. “Give me one reason not to get one of the agents, have you sent to Cincinnati, and end our relationship once and for all.”
“I love you, Sir.”
“Not good enough, Jonathon. Not this time.”
Gabe saw the smart-ass sass forming in his mind and was relieved when Jonathon choked it back and said, “I’m sorry.”
Gabe sat on the bed and patted his knee. Jonathon crawled to him, kneeling between Gabe’s spread legs, and rested his cheek on his knee.
“So what’s going on? Speak freely.”
“What happens when she stops wanting all of us? She is so fucking out of our league. We just left the White House! This suite is ridiculous. There are people living in my hometown who are raising several children in less space than this.”
Gabe closed his eyes for just a second to try to rub the exhaustion away. “Shelve your insecurities. You know I can’t offer any guarantees for another’s behavior, but I can guarantee Alexandra is not the type person who takes relationships lightly.”
“Last night was so―”
“Fucking amazing?”
“I was thinking intense.”
“That too.”
“I’m so confused. It isn’t the extravagance, or the sex last night, but the entire experience from yesterday morning until now. Her family welcomed us, unconditionally, and for a moment I felt I was home again. Knowing I can never go home…” A tear slid down Jonathon’s cheek. “I come from a large family, like hers, and when you rescued me and I came here, I thought I’d never again experience the same level of love, commitment, and loyalty. My family abandoned me. They tried to kill me. I guess I’m homesick, and I’ll never again have the innocent trust I once had. I have no idea what to do with all this emotion, and I fear I might get comfortable―”
“And lose it again?” Gabe filled in the empty space.
“Yes,” he whispered.
Gabe pulled him into a hug. “Allow yourself to fall in love again, Jonathon—with her, with Rowan, with her huge family. It’s better to have the experience than to hide because you’re afraid of being hurt.”
“I saw her face when she realized what the red room is. She will never understand and except me as I am.”
“You believe she won’t accept you because you’re submissive?”
“She won’t understand that I need what you give me as my Dom.
A soft tap at the suite’s main door announced room service.
“When I return, I will punish you for being disrespectful of my primary partner. I will also ask you a series of questions, and you better have the right answers, Jonathon, or tonight will be our last night together.” Gabe abandoned Jonathon to open the door and was met by two attendants. One carried extra pillows, blankets, towels. “Two additional terry-cloth robes, as requested.”
“Set everything in the bedroom on the right.” Gabe pointed to the room Jonathon was in.
Gabe looked at the staff member who’d pushed in a cart with shiny domed lids hiding dinner. “May I serve you at the table?”
“Actually, if you could just leave the cart, we’d prefer to self-serve tonight.”
“As you wish.”
The server separated the fabric of the cloth covering the cart. “A six-pack of Guinness, a six-pack of Harp, two quarts of orange juice, and a case of bottled water, as requested: and a dozen mixed pastries inside the bakery boxes.”
“Thank you.”
“I am also told to assure Dr. Van Zant the remaining items will be delivered within the next hour. They were slightly more difficult to procure.”
“I will tell her.” He all but pushed him out of the room. He faced the lead security agent. “I guess we’re expecting one more delivery, but after that, I’m hoping not to be disturbed until morning.”
♥ ♥ ♥
Alexandra faced Conor, having awakened in the bed, but still dressed and on top of the sheets. He too was still dressed. “So the visit with the president wasn’t a dream, was it?”
“Afraid not, if that’s what you were hoping.”
She took a deep breath and nodded. “My life is out of my control, and I’m a serious OCD control freak, so a dream would definitely have been preferable.”
She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling.
Conor covered her pelvis with his hand and pressed lightly. “All okay in there?”
“Oh.” She grimaced, exhaling through the increased pain he was causing with only light pressure. “Little sore, not gonna lie.”
“I heard you tell Gabe you felt like your guts may fall out?”
“You were hoping I’d exaggerated?” She met his gaze, seeing that was exactly what he’d hoped for. “Understatement, actually.”
“Sorry. I tried to be gentle, and the first time is always a bit painful.”
“M-mmm, yeah.” She furrowed her brow.
“Are you bleeding?”
She shook her head.
“The soreness will calm over the next twenty-four hours.” He traced the side of her face with his fingers. “It meant a lot when you trusted me. I know fisting probably seemed absolutely terrifying.”
“Confusing, not terrifying.” She rolled back on her side and hugged his face. “Was the fisting your idea or Gabe’s?”
“Does it matter?”
She took a deep breath, not sure she really wanted to know the truth. “It might, depending on your answer.”
“He is your primary. I asked if I could, and he granted permission on the stipulation you had to agree.”
Her frown deepened. “Did I agree?”
“I wouldn’t have fisted you if you hadn’t agreed.”
She replayed the conversation in her head. “I agreed to trust you. I know it’s semantics, but perfect recall. Sorry.”
“If you tell me what’s bothering you―”
She rolled back onto her back, whispering, “I wish I knew, or I wish I could admit to knowing.”
“I don’t want something obviously so important to stand between us.”
“The blood red room―”
“You should talk to Gabe about that subject first.”
“Or I can walk out of this hotel right now and never look back.”
He stared at her and she knew he was trying to determine if she was serious. He finally said, “Ask me what you want to know and I will answer if I can.”
Alexandra bit her lip, frowning. She looked away. “I don’t know what to ask or even how to ask it. I keep imagining horrible scenarios.”
“Don’t imagine anything; let Gabe introduce you to the room.”
“No, definitely not going to happen.”
“He won’t hurt you. He fears hurting you, so he’s especially careful with you.”
“Hurt me?”
“He doesn’t ever admit he enjoys causing people pain…enjoys it a little too much…and if he ever fled from you, it was because he wanted what he didn’t want you to give him, but never doubt how much he loves you.”
“He loves me,” she whispered. “He loves Jonathon too.”
“Yes.”
“Jonathon allows Gabe to hurt him?”
“Sometimes. Jonathon craves pain with a desperation that is slightly terrifying. That’s why he needs Gabe to protect him, because without Gabe, he seeks out very dangerous people who are more than willing to hurt him.”
“After what his cousins did to him?”
“Especially because of what happened to him that night. He was almost killed because he refused to recant that he is bisexual and a sexual submissive.”
“That makes no sense. Someone should have told me all this—Jonathon, the red room. You should have told me.”
She exhaled, still not looking at Conor. “Does he take Jonathon in there?”
“You need to talk to Gabe about his relationship with Jonathon.”
“Fine, does Gabe take you in there?”
“No, he doesn’t.”
She nodded, believing him.
“I’ve used the room often in the past.”
She frowned deeper, whispering, “Jonathon?”
“A few times, mostly others. I prefer to dominate women.”
She opened and closed her mouth before saying, “Oh.”
Conor stroked her cheek. “You, sweetheart, are thinking very loudly. Please don’t dwell on that. I’ll not be taking anyone in there in the future. I signed an exclusivity agreement. I am yours, and you are mine.”
She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, kissing him softly. “Do you remember the night we were all drunk?”
“I will never forget the first time I was with you, if that’s what you’re asking. You flipped my world on its axis, and if the ménage à quatre hadn’t formed, if I’d never been able to touch you again, I might have gone insane from longing.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, nodding. She knew exactly that feeling. “It’s the strangest thing. You were so intimidating at first, slightly terrifying. My heart started racing when you said, ‘You like it rough? I like to play rough,’ and it hasn’t stopped. It’s in my head on repeat and I constantly think about you saying it”
“What are you saying?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m saying. Never mind.”
“We’re all alone. Me and you. Talk to me, Alexandra. Whatever is on your mind?”
“That first night at the bar, even then, I trusted you completely. Your words made my heart race faster than it ever has, and I’ve wanted to find out what playing rough would be like with you ever since, but Gabe is always there, stopping you or orchestrating. He’ll never let that happen. Will he?”
“That’s a question for him, isn’t it?” Conor squeezed her hand. “The food arrived. We need to eat.”
♥ ♥ ♥
Alexandra started lifting domed lids and chose the vegetarian plate she’d ordered—a warm sweet-potato-and-black-bean terrine, marble potatoes, sugar snap peas, carrot puree, baby zucchini, and radish salad. Instead of sitting at the dining table, she took her salad to the sofa and sat. Using the remote, she turned on the television and immediately said sarcastically, “Oh, look, honey, we made the news. Again.”
Gabe handed her an opened Harp and set a bottle of water for each of them on the coffee table. He returned to the cart and chose one of the remaining three dinners. They were identical—twelve-ounce rib eyes, crispy marble potatoes, grilled baby leeks, Chinese long beans with kimchee butter. There was also a basket of honey-wheat walnut bread. “Do you want some bread?”
“Definitely.” She turned up the volume as Conor exited the bedroom. He’d showered and wore one of the hotel’s cotton terry robes.
He pointed at the obvious. “I hope you don’t mind.”
She winked. “Naked man in a robe? No, I don’t mind. Get some food and join us.”
Gabe held his plate and sat next to her on the sofa. He set the basket of bread on the coffee table before he settled.
Gabe dipped his finger into the butter and tasted. “Hmm, sweetened butter.”
“Give me!” She held out her hand.
Gabe buttered her a slice and handed it to her. She took a bite. “Ohmigod, honey butter. I love this place; we’re staying here every week.”
A news anchor was reporting, “The Hill is abuzz with rumor tonight, as Dr. Alexandra Van Zant was seen entering the White House grounds.”
The television screen switched to showing video, which left no doubt it was indeed her and her three men. Alexandra observed, “The suits and shades look good. Let’s remember, monochromatic black whenever possible.”
The newscaster talked over the video. “It appears her men were also with her.”
“Her men,” she repeated, annoyed. “I’m going to personally e-mail all the fucking networks so they can at least give you names.”
“Oh, please don’t.” Conor sat in the chair opposite them. “I’m already recognized too often.”
“Embarrassed by our relationship?” Alexandra teased, hoping he wasn’t.
He gave her a confused look. “God no! Tired of being propositioned? Yes.”
She covered her mouth to hide her laughter, but then a thought occurred to her that wasn’t funny, and her brow furrowed. She turned to Gabe and asked, “Are you being propositioned as well?”
Gabe shrugged, shaking his head.
She nodded. “Mixed signals.”
Conor barked with laughter.
“Any answer I give you will be the wrong answer,” Gabe replied.
“Well, I know I don’t like that answer,” Alexandra assured him.
“You have seen the three of us? We’re pretty impressive with our clothes off.”
“Wow. That video has gone to your head,” she teased.
“Stating the truth. Those cameras caught our best features.”
“Jesus.” As the news turned to ridiculous speculation, Alexandra turned off the television. “I’m too tired for nonsense. Where’s Jonathon? Did he leave while I was sleeping?”
“No,” Gabe assured her. “He’s in the other bedroom, currently wrestling demons, but I can get him.”
She shook her head. “No, please no. I have enough of my own demons tonight without having to deal with anyone else’s.”
“Xandra, sweet, a moment ago, did you say every week?” Gabe asked.
“Yeah, part of my direct orders from the president, I told you I needed to fill you in on. I have a standing Thursday-evening date with the president. I’ll be fine to come alone. I know Cronies doesn’t run itself. If you want, I can jet here and back, same day.”
“So you can run yourself ragged and get no rest at all? Not acceptable,” Gabe countered. “Just make certain the president knows you will be in Ireland the month of November.”
“He knows.” She knew by Gabe’s expression she’d failed to hide her trepidation at all. “So, as a representative of the Unites States, I’ll be required to meet with dignitaries while I’m in the UK.”
“But you won’t be in the United Kingdom. You’ll be in Ireland.”
She made a face. ”To travel so near and not visit could be taken as an insult.”
We’re getting married January first. Alexandra blew out a breath as she practiced saying it in her head. Nope, can’t do it.
She started to set her mostly uneaten meal on the coffee table, but Conor pointed his fork at her, saying, “Eh, eh, eat. A minute ago you were starving. I say we table the heavy discussion until you’ve at least eaten half of your dinner.”
“Yes, I’m sorry,” Gabe added. “I don’t need to add stress to your life, and we’ve all accepted life was never going to be the same for any of us from the moment you returned from Montana.”
She gave Gabe a half smile and then nodded at Conor.
She kept eating until she was full, and then set the plate on the coffee table. “Sorry, can’t eat another bite.”
Conor looked at Gabe before saying, “Almost half, I guess.”
She leaned her head on Gabe’s shoulder and closed her eyes. “Promise me if I fall asleep, you will both sleep with me tonight?”
Gabe kissed her forehead. “Promise.”
♥ ♥ ♥
Nearly two hours later, a soft rap announced what Gabe hoped was the final delivery. He’d carried Alexandra into the bedroom, undressed her, and put her into bed almost an hour before, and he’d been sitting, watching a movie with Conor.
A nervous employee unzipped a garment bag and revealed the contents within. “I hope this dress is acceptable. It’s the most exclusive we could find at this late hour. I apologize.”
Gabe inspected the long-sleeved sheath in gray with black accents, noting the five-hundred-dollar price tag still attached, and decided it looked cheap.
“It was the closest we could find to her request.”
“It’s the correct size?” Gabe asked
“Of course, and inside the small attached bag are the intimates she asked for.”
“Thank you. I’m certain with the short notice, she will be fine with the dress.”
The employee nervously explained, “She stated classic elegance in black or gray.”
“She’s sleeping, so I will hang it in the closet for her.” Gabe took the dress and watched the man walk away.
♥ ♥ ♥
Leaving Conor in bed with her, Gabe answered the door at an ungodly hour in the morning to find Erica, Gwen, and Jesse, her angels of nails, hair, and makeup before any large event, standing on the other side. He was startled to see them, not expecting them, and to top it off, their appearance was extremely understated. Their penchant for flamboyance was completely in check. He almost hadn’t recognized them. Erica burst out laughing, he assumed because of his shocked expression.
Gwen strode in. “We can be very subdued when needed, and the White House? Lord have mercy on my soul, if any event cried out for discretion, this is it. We’d never embarrass our girl.”
Erica handed him four separate garment bags. “Compliments of Alejandro. When Alexandra called frantic from a ladies’ room inside the White House last night, we called him with a stat order and then got our butts on the first available private jet to be here this morning. She seemed especially worried about a wardrobe change for her and her men. These will be sufficient. The suits are identical.”
Gabe opened the top bag, revealing a dove-gray wool suit, crisp white shirt, and black tie. He nodded. “Remind me to thank him.”
“And this,” Erica explained, pointing at the fourth bag, “an original from the Baron Boutique―mohair-wool skirt suit, tailored fit guaranteed to complement her narrow form. Alexandra is his favorite client, so he always holds back that special something-something with her in mind. He said that when it arrived, he knew it was meant for her and had it altered immediately.”
Gabe unzipped the garment bag and revealed a dark gray suit of exceptional quality. “Yes, it is the perfect power suit. She is going to be thrilled.”
“That’s why Alejandro always trusts his gut instinct. If he’d delayed the alterations, we would not have it here today. Now, where is our girl?”
“Sleeping. You can have her in another two hours. Sit, make yourselves comfortable, order room service if you’d like. Just keep the voices down, please.”
He left them to rejoin Alexandra and Conor but feared he’d wake her up, so he turned around and went into the other bedroom. He found Jonathon naked and curled in a chair, his rosary clutched in his hand.
“Praying to God I’ll forgive you?”
Jonathon looked up. “No, Sir. Not even praying, just thinking, seeking guidance.”
“Divine guidance?”
“Not necessarily.” Jonathon stood, put his rosary in a velvet pouch, and shoved the bag into his luggage.
“Are you ready to be punished for your bad behavior?”
Jonathon knelt in front of Gabe, unbuckled and slid his belt from the loops. He kissed the leather and handed the belt to him.
“How many strikes, Jonathon?”
Jonathon dropped his face. “Fifty, Sir.”
“If I strike you fifty times, you will be unable to defend Alexandra tomorrow.”
“I do not deserve the honor of being her bodyguard, Sir.”
“Whether you are worthy isn’t my first priority. Protecting Alexandra is, and she needs all of us ready and able to take a bullet for her if necessary. Are you willing to take a bullet for her?”
Jonathon looked up, surprise written over his face. “Of course, without thought.”
Gabe nodded. “I believe you. Fifty strikes over two days, Jonathon. Agreed?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Stand up, back to me.”
Jonathon turned his back to Gabe, bent his head low, and counted, “One.”
“No, Jonathon, my count tonight.”
Gabe took aim and delivered the first blow; Jonathon staggered but held in the sound of distress caught in his throat. Gabe struck again, each blow equally hard but distributed over his body, not giving him time to catch his breath or regroup. When the twenty-fifth blow landed, Jonathon dropped to his knees and started sobbing.
Gabe knelt behind him and pulled Jonathon’s bright-red back against his chest, feeling the heat rising from his skin.
“Come here.” Gabe turned Jonathon and wrapped him in his arms and tried to look into his eyes, but Jonathon turned his face.
“What emotion are you feeling?” Gabe cupped his cheek and gently forced Jonathon to meet his gaze.
Jonathon whispered, “Please don’t leave me.”
“What. Emotion?” Gabe repeated.
“Fear.”
Gabe lowered his lips to kiss Jonathon, savoring the desperation of Jonathon’s response, and then asked softly, “What are you afraid of?”
Jonathon shook his head, and Gabe kissed him again, catching his bottom lip to pull it out, stretching until he made a distressed sound. Gabe released him, and Jonathon blurted out, “Alexandra is stealing you from me.”
“No, Jonathon, my heart has always been hers, even when we were absent from each other’s lives. Try again.”
“I’m afraid of myself. I’m afraid of destroying everything because I want what she is offering so badly, and I know I’m not good enough for her.”
Gabe gathered him closer, holding him tight and rocking him as Jonathon sobbed against his chest. “I believe you are, Jonathon. For now let that be enough. Let me take care of you; let me protect you. Let Alexandra and I give you the family you so desperately desire.”
Jonathon nodded, still crying.